Death To Squeaky Toys *Updated*

There is a bird that lives in a tree close to my window. I have never seen it, but as far as I can tell, it never leaves that spot. I also never stops squeaking. You read that correctly, squeaking. There is a living squeaky toy in the tree outside my bedroom window. I'm pretty sure this bird is the reason for every coyote within a ten mile radius.

I already have a ridiculously hard time falling asleep. I have gone months (that I barely remember) on a maximum of two hours of sleep a night because I couldn't fall asleep. I frequently try different things like sleepy time tea, melatonin, valerian root, and anything p.m. to attempt to make myself sleep, but generally, they all fail me. I don't think I need to say that having a breathing squeaky toy going off every thirty seconds outside of my window doesn't help matters at all. But that isn't the worst part. No, the worst part is when the sound wakes me up in the middle of the night. My brain doesn't work as well as I would like on a normal basis. But when I wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of this:

I instantly think that something is dying. I then run downstairs, and stand outside in the cold for a few minutes before I remember what the source of the sound is. Then I drag myself back to bed and repeat the process of trying to fall asleep. This time, without the options of drugs as assistance since I've already used them. Now, I'm not a fan of killing things. In fact, I refuse to kill anything, including mosquitoes, and am a vegetarian. But that is a post for another time. The point is, there is a breathing squeaky toy outside of my window. AND IT MUST DIE.

Update: Okay, so looking back on this post with some sleep, I feel that it may have been a bit brash. Maybe someone could just steal it's voice box for me so that I could get a good night's sleep? Or better yet, let's relocate it. Far from any human ears.

The picture might have also been a bit of an exaggeration  I don't have a living vampire rubber ducky living in the tree outside my window....I don't think.... But that is what I imagine every time I hear that bird.

A Monumental Achievement

Hello my beautiful and currently nonexistent readers. Today is a historic* occasion, or at least it will be if I manage to finish this post and click "Publish" since I have never managed to post a second post on a blog. I am now realizing that every post from now on if they exist will be a monumental achievement for me, but I promise, I won't mention that on every post.

Now is where I am supposed to say something entertaining. Something that gives you a reason to read this blog. This is why I never end up with a second post. I can't imagine being able to come up with something daily or even weekly to entertain you. That is why, for now at least, I have to pretend you don't exist. I suppose this should be relatively easy since for now at least, you don't. However, my anxiety flairs up at the thought of posting anything that doesn't have a point to it. This is where I have to remind myself that the point isn't to entertain anyone. That is not to say that I wouldn't love for someone to enjoy reading this, but that is not why I created this blog. I created this blog for myself. Because life threw me lemons, and now I'm choosing to throw them right back, and harder. Hehe yup, there had to be an explanation for the title somewhere.

Anyways, I may have to write a hundred posts just to remind myself why I make myself write this. And while  I feel sorry for the person who accidentally stumbles across this blog, and reads a bunch of posts that essentially say the same thing, while I would love to have a blog that some people might enjoy reading, I have to remember that first and foremost this blog is a challenge to myself. To prove to myself that I can do it.

*Okay, so I know you are supposed to say "an historic," but seriously, it makes me cringe to hear it. Or type it. Or think it. It just sounds wrong!

Let's Start Again

I used to write all the time. I wrote a full book when I was nine, and knew that is what I wanted to continue doing for the rest of my life. Then, when I turned ten, my anxiety disorder (that I now realize I have had my whole life) got much worse. That year was probably the worst year of my life. It was miserable and when I look back on it I shutter. The thing about it was, that nothing really bad happened that year. But wherever I went, my anxiety stopped me in my tracks. Because of this, I stopped writing. I hated it. I tried to write, but I couldn't.

I am now 17 and my anxiety still keeps me from doing a lot of things I would like to do. But I am trying to fight it. Last year, I was diagnosed with my anxiety disorder and started receiving treatment. I take sertraline to help with my anxiety. It doesn't stop the panic attacks. I still have to fight my anxiety to do things I want to do. But, it helps me get through each day relatively calmer. It allows me sit in a restaurant where a picture is crooked. I usually don't take out my inner turmoil on the people I love anymore. Understanding ish why I feel the way I do has helped a lot too. I challenge myself to go outside of my comfort zone to prove to myself that I can. And as long as I don't do too many insane things like talking on a phone in one day, I can make it through without any panic attacks.

I have tried to start a blog several times before. I will get one post done, and then my anxiety will keep me from ever posting again. But the thing is, I love writing. I don't want my anxiety to keep me from doing something that I love anymore. So here I am, trying again. I have no idea what this blog is going to be about. For now it will be my ramblings that I will try to force myself to post. I hope that someday I will be able to write a post without it putting me on the brink of an anxiety attack. For now it does, but I refuse to let that stop me.